Patterns
by Ziggard
Summary: RED doesn't seem to stand a chance against BLU these days, and a new class is introduced to guide both teams through the ongoing Gravel War. Spy finds himself intrigued by this new indivual. He has always been able to win over women easily, but once he finds himself attracted to the horribly calculating and seemingly emotionless Strategist, it seems he can't prevail...
1. Categories

Clarity.

That was the word that was whirling through his mind as he stood amidst his enemies, watching how they were slaughtering his teammates.

He could perfectly predict they were failing this mission, even though the Administrator's voice had just declared that there were ten whole minutes left for them to capture the intelligence. Everything was clear to him, he felt so calm, so clear.

He was literally clear at that moment. His cloak was keeping him out of his enemies' vision. Out of everyone's vision for that matter. If he were to help his team right now by shooting a mercenary of the opposite team, he would uncloak, which would reveal him to the rest of them, which would send him to respawn almost immediately. He didn't feel like going through unnecessary pain and confusion right now, his team wouldn't even be able to complete their mission this time anyway.

So he just stood still, silently watching the massacre unfold. He couldn't stay here for a very long time, his cloak would soon fail him, he learned that by looking at his watch and seeing only two of the ten bars, indicating cloaking time he had left, illuminated. He reluctantly stepped aside, careful not to bump into the back of the huge Russian emptying his minigun in front of him.

As soon as his cloak had worn off and he had entered everyone's field of vision again, he found himself retreated at a safe distance from any firing guns and swooshing bullets.

"We should cease trying and accept our defeat, gentlemen," he said, barely talking louder than usual. No one paid attention, his fellow mercenaries kept on fighting with bitter persuasion.

He shook his head and took his revolver out of its holster, so that it at least seemed like he was about to contribute to the fight.

The sound of a larger rifle firing made him look up, just in time to notice the sniper on the roof of the nearby building. It was the last thing he saw before he unvoluntarily dropped down on all fours and sudden darkness enveloped him. He heard blood rushing in his ears, faster and faster and...

Nothing.

Then an immense vertigo smashed him against the ground. He opened his eyes, his hands and knees the on cool, white tiles of the respawn room. At first there was an almost unbearable pounding in his head, but it quickly subsided, and he slowly rose to his feet. He couldn't help but crack a slight grin.

" _C'était un tireur d'élite très attentif, mon dieu..._ "

He didn't feel like going back to that battle, that massacre. There were days when he could be found sneaking around near the crossfire, backstabbing enemies whenever he had the opportunity, days when he didn't mind going through respawn nine times in a row just give him team the slightest bit of a chance to carry the briefcase with intelligence straight into victory. But today sure wasn't one of those days. To be honest, neither was yesterday. Actually he hadn't felt like that in months. It was as if his was slowly starting to lose all motivation to continue this war. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was growing indifferent.

'Attention. Five minutes left in the mission. _Five minutes left in the mission_.'

His feet carried him to the crossfire. He quickly disguised as an enemy Scout, sapped a sentry and backstabbed the BLU Engineer trying to defend it. Surprisingly, nobody noticed him and he quickly cloaked to ensure a safe retreat.

He thought they could win, for just a moment, as RED's Heavy was übered by their Medic, and at least five BLU mercenaries were killed by Heavy's minigun.

But then the über-load wore off and the Russian took a bullet to the head, fired by the insanely skilled BLU Sniper. So far their chances for any kind of victory.

'You failed!' The Administrators voice sounded harsh from his earpiece. He nodded calmly and took the little device out of his ear. He knew. It had been clear to him.

RED retreated like beaten dogs.

"Aww man, I can not believe this!" Scout angrily threw his shattergun in his locker and smashed its door close. "This is like, what, fourth time 'a the week that we fail a mission? I sure as hell think th'Admin's gonna be so pissed with us."

He either exactly spoke the feelings of all of the nine mercs, so no one felt they had to add something to it, or they were just all too tired to reply to him. Only Pyro pulled him into a rib shattering hug and uttered a wailing, almost theatrical sigh.

Spy had already headed for their living quarters, stood in front of the heavily secured window that had absolutely no view except for some abandoned oil barrels and other battle-related trash. He slowly lighted a cigarette and watched the smoke rise toward the ceiling, where it slowly vanished. It looked so calming, so majestic, following the same kind of patterns that a drop of ink made in a glass of water. He always wondered if those patterns were some kind of scientifically related, maybe it had something to do with chemical processes? He genuinely didn't know, then again he had never been a man to indulge in science and maths.

Languages however always held his interest, he loved discovering what different languages had in common, he loved discovering patterns. He was fluent in eight languages, and knew how to keep a not-all-too-complicated conversation going in five more. That was one of the many things that led to his employment of more than a decade in the world of secret intelligence and espionage, before... Before he joined RED. There were two clear categories that contained all of his memories, almost labeled if you will, separating them in 'before RED' and 'RED'. The 'before RED' category contained both the very best and the very worst memories of his life. He often liked to forget about all of those, just focusing on the 'RED' epoch, just focusing on the present.

The other mercs had started entering the room, everyone pretending they actually had something to entertain themselves, to keep their mind off of their fresh defeat. Pyro sat down in a corner with a box of matches, lighting them slowly, one by one, and staring at the little flame, sighing each time it died out. Scout repeatedly threw a baseball against the wall, sometimes throwing it from behind his back or from underneath his leg to incorporate some variation in his otherwise way too boring activity. Demoman was... Spy was not too sure whether the Scotsman was awake or asleep, given that he was lying on his stomach in the middle of the room with his bottle filled with suspiciously coloured alcohol-containing liquid next to him, occasionally sobbing or hiccuping.

Suddenly a signal sounded in the room, announcing the arrival of an employee of the main office. Everyone kind of sat up, straightened their clothes and faced the door to be able to greet whosoever was about to enter their living quarters. Spy didn't even bother turning around, he just tapped the excess ashes off the end of his cigarette.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," the high voice of Miss Pauling sounded. After a slight pause, she continued: "Or I guess I could say a not-so-good afternoon, given your facial expressions?"

"What do you think yourself?", Soldier shouted, "Those maggots from the BLU team don't seem to be playing by the rules exactly! We can barely stand five minutes against them without all being sent to respawn twice!"

Spy turned around. He was not too fond of Miss Pauling, but she was a nice lady, and he sure did not appreciate Soldier lashing out to her like that. But she didn't seem impressed, and Soldier quickly apologized for his unreasonable behaviour, so Spy just let the moment pass.

"Funny that you should mention 'not playing by the rules'," Miss Pauling smiled. She pulled a few sheets of paper from her ever-present clipboard. "We -and with that I mean the Administrator- have observed unfair behaviour being displayed in battle by members of the BLU team. I recall the BLU Demoman using a grenade launcher that had not been provided by Mann Co., or TF Industries for that matter, it had higher accuracy and more explosive material. Normally we would encourage creating new weapons, but this particular weapon had been provided by a third party."

"Those sneaky f-" Scout was about to utter a nice string of expletives, but he managed to contain himself with a quick look at Miss Pauling furrowing her brow.

"I am not someone to judge their behaviour, Scout," she said. "However, the Administrator is. In fact, she has decided to hire someone in team BLU to supervise their actions and plan out their attacks." She stopped briefly to push her glasses, that had slid to the tip of her nose, back up. "That would be unfair to RED, so we want someone to plan out attacks for RED to. I guess that would be appreciated." A quick wink to the team. "So, as both teams will have a new member that _essentially_ fulfills the same role, we decided to introduce a new class."

A few mercs groaned in disbelief. Spy understood their reluctance to accept a new member in the team, but he knew this was inevitable, since they wouldn't stand much of a chance against BLU if they continued like this.

"So," he said, "what is the name you have given to this new mercenary?"

Miss Pauling gave him a silent nod for his support. "We have named them 'Strategist', since it perfectly describes the purpose of this new class."

"Already hired someone?", Soldier asked. Miss Pauling shook her head. "I can't tell you all of the details of course, since it's strictly confidential, but I am allowed to tell you that we have three possible applicants for the function at the RED team, all three of them highly skilled, so you need not worry about that."

"Hire a girl," Scout yelled to no one in particular, "that would make for some eh, fun!"

Miss Pauling put the sheets of paper back in her clipboard. "Actually, one of the applicants is female, but that should not matter to any of you, since all of you are professional, disciplined mercenaries." She made sure to emphasize the latter part of her sentence, which made Scout look down at his shoes, slightly embarrassed.

His reaction was of course totally logical, Spy reckoned, no one of the mercenaries would see a female human being for multiple months at a time, with Miss Pauling as an exception. But everyone held her in high regard, no one except Scout had ever made a move toward her. She was a beautiful woman, everyone would agree on that, but she was really good at her job and trying to flirt with her would be plain disrespectful.

"Anyone have a question?", she asked, looking around the room full of men. A few shook their heads, others had already continued leaving the room or finding some mind-consuming activity to do.

The petite, black-haired woman gave a short nod and silently left the room.

Spy extinguished the stub of his cigarette in an ash tray and took the little metal container out of his pocket to light another one.

 _Beaucoup de choses changera._

He just knew it. He only couldn't decide whether it would be for the better or for the worse. He just knew there was a new category in his memories about to arise.

* * *

 _ **A/N: A couple of French sentences are used in this chapter, the translations:**_

 _"C'était un tireur d'élite très attentif, mon dieu..." |_ _ **"That was a highly skilled sniper, my god..."**_

 _Beaucoup de choses changera. |_ _ **A lot of things are about to change.**_

 _ **Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter. Please do keep in mind that English is not my native language, and that I can make a mistake every now and then. It would be useful if you would point them out for me. Also, if you like the story, please consider leaving a review. Thank you. :)**_


	2. Team Spirit

Chapter 2-

RED actually won the last round during the next day. It surprised all of the nine mercenaries, nobody started cheering, they just stood there as the BLUs ran away to the safety of their base.

"Are we in overtime?", Heavy asked cautiously, lowering his enormous gun from attack position. Others looked around nervously, shook their heads. Scout started cheering silently, but stopped when no one joined in.

"Well, I guess that's that." Engineer started disassembling his sentry and carefully arranged the parts before putting them in his tool box. He was the first one to head back to the RED base.

Spy was great at acting and hiding his actual emotions -both positive and negative-, but this time he knew his fatigue was showing. It was worse than when they would lose all rounds. This time, their team had given everything they had, and they were on the verge of losing when the opposing team's Heavy stepped on an abandoned sticky bomb, which then was detonated accidentally by RED's Demoman, who had been so drunk he had been button-mashing his detonation remote control, hoping to do some damage.

They had given everything, and yet they hadn't won because of their skills, but just because of sheer luck. It was not encouraging, to say the least.

Nobody lingered in the communal living quarters, except for the Engineer, who went off to the base's small kitchen to cook all of the mercs a meal. For a change, Spy stayed around him for a while. He actually never talked to the short Texan out of battle, despite the other's amiable personality. He could really use some positive attitude around him now.

"Do you expect the new class to actually mend our broken team spirit?", he asked, leaning in a corner far away from the furnace to not inconvenience the other with the smoke from his ever-present cigarette, and to make clear he was not about to help with preparing a meal.

Engineer looked up from the celery he had been slicing. "To be completely honest with ya, no. We've all been workin' together for a while now, and some new kid won't be able to dictate our actions untill he, or 'she' apparently, will be accepted. We have two months 'till ceasefire, they won't be accepted unless they'll be chasin' us all over the battlefield with a whip."

"That is just a preference one could have, who am I to judge that," Spy said, not expecting the other man to understand the ambiguous nature of his joke. But the Texan gave a dark chuckle as he threw the chopped vegetables in a pan with boiling soup.

"Wouldcha mind handin' me the carrots over there?", Engineer raised his hand to receive the bag of vegetables without looking up. Spy stayed in the corner, not doing anything, his facial expression unfathomable. The other shrugged, walked over to grab a few carrots himself.

"Makin' minestrone soup today for a change," Engineer said. "We've been eatin' leftovers from the first couple 'a meals o' the week lately."

Spy smiled slyly and breathed out, a thin string of smoke emerging from his lips. "I hope you are aware of the fact that 'minestrone' is a sort of superlative of the Italian word ' _minestra_ ', meaning vegetables, and that a minestrone soup consists mainly of vegetable leftovers?"

Engineer gave him a blank stare, shook his head, then looked down and started chopping the carrots. "Ah well. Not everyone's that good with languages, y'know."

The French man scoffed and shook his head. "Attempting to flatter me will not have me be more... agréable towards the team."

He knew Engineer had always been slightly more socially sensitive than any of the other mercenaries. The physicist just wanted people to get along as much as possible, and he wanted to avoid conflict within the team as much as possible. However, someone who were to think that he was a kind-hearted person, obviously never saw the man in battle. Something changed in him, his face went blank except for a faint smirk, which would remain exactly the same whenever any of his constructions would claim a life, or two, or ten. Spy had always figured that Engineer was still a good man, as long as he wasn't against you in battle.

"This is... about ready," Engineer said, "I'm gonna call the others out, just a sec. Wouldcha mind gettin' out of that corner?"

Spy stepped a few feet to the right and Engineer slammed his hand on a signal button on the wall a few times, which sent the same sound through the speakers as the arrival of a Mann Co. employee. It was only by the repeated signal that the other mercenaries would be able to tell that dinner was being served.

Dinner was not completely silent for a change. Medic had apparently left some bird cage in his practice open, and about seven white pidgeons had followed him into the living quarters. The German had to chase them away from the tables approximately 37 times during the duration of the dinner, but frankly, no one minded him doing so, since everybody got a nice chuckle out of it when Archimedes carefully perched on the rim of the poor Medic's bowl of soup and haughtily defecated in the vegetable brewage. Spy meticulously hid his smirk by pretending to have trouble lighting his cigarette.

A while after everyone -except Medic, of course- had finished their dinner, the alarm that announced arrival of Miss Pauling at the base sounded, and less than a minute later the dark haired woman appeared in the doorway to the living quarters.

"Good evening again, gentlemen," she said, obviously glad to see the mercs with higher spirits than the night before. She was enthusiastically greeted by everyone.

"I am sorry to ruin your great moods, but the Administrator required me to say, even though you have won today's last round by accident, you have displayed less team work than yesterday." She paused quickly to look around the room to make sure she didn't directly offend anyone with this statement. Spy smiled slightly. She was so young, so innocent, she actually believed sheer words would hurt the hardened mercs.

"But anyway, that is about to change." Her cheeks went rosy, she was geekily excited to make the announcement she was about to make. "We have hired someone for the function of a RED Strategist." She was silent, waiting for the mercs to share her enthusiasm. When that didn't happen, she coughed and pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"Ah well. There are a few things you need to know. The person we have hired is female, and-" This time she was interrupted by the cheering of a few mercs, who quickly fell silent upon the piercing glance of Miss Pauling.

"I expect all of you to treat her with respect and dignity, or even better, exactly the same as you treat any of your fellow mercs. The fact that she is of the opposite gender should not... interfere with your professionalism. She is waiting just outside, in the corridor. I'll go get her in a second, and I want each one of you to introduce yourselves to her, one by one. The Administrator has long informed her about all of the different classes, but she might as well be able to have a face to match with the name, right?"

The mercs nodded. Miss Pauling straightened her ever-present purple blouse and nodded back. Then she turned around and stepped to the corridor.

As soon as she had moved out of sight, Scout turned around and raised his clenched fists, mouthing an excited ' _yes_ ' without making any sound. Soldier was grinning, and Engineer nervously looked around to gauge the others' expressions.

Spy internally judged them for acting like excited teenage boys, but then he realized he was also actually curious about this particular woman.

He heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He loathed his curiosity, it was not correct, not professional, not _courtois_. He just focused on the sounds of the footsteps. Miss Pauling walked with small steps, and her high heels made a quick, repeated clicking noise because of that. But there were other footsteps, obviously, slower and heavier than Miss Pauling's.

The petite woman appeared in the door opening and smiled. "Gentlemen, this is your Strategist."

Then another person stepped in the doorway. She was a few inches taller than Miss Pauling and even though she wore a wide shirt that hid most of her shape, it was clear that she had a much broader, athletic frame. She had light brown hair at shoulder length and light, wide set eyes. She wasn't beautiful at all, Spy had to admit that, but she wasn't hideous either, and she possessed something that ever so slightly intrigued him. Maybe it was because she wasn't beautiful that he was able to notice that right away.

As each one of the mercs spoke up to introduce themselves, Spy could see the disappointment in their eyes. Scout didn't even try to mask it and introduced himself with an theatrically disgusted look on his face. Others, like Medic and Heavy were more subtle and named themselves with a professional nod. Even Pyro, who normally liked greeting strangers with a most intimidating hug, stayed at a distance.

Engineer however looked around one more time, shook his head, then confidently walked up to her to introduce himself. When he raised his hand, she gave him a puzzled look, then shook it anyway.

"Hiya, Strategist. I am RED's Engineer. Pleasure to meet ya."

She gave him a slight nod and something that could possibly be interpreted as a smile. "It is my pleasure meeting you, too."

Spy mused her accent was indeterminable to the others, but he, the man with an affinity for languages, he figured it to be Germanic, Nordic to be precisely. Those were a few of the languages he didn't speak. He knew a couple of sentences in Norse, but not enough to converse with someone. It was truly a pity, he would have liked to impress her by introducing himself in her mother language.

Engineer stepped back, and Spy walked up to her. " _Bonjour madame Stratège_ , I am the Spy of this team." He took hold of the hand she raised to shake his, and kissed it on the back softly.

She startled, pulled her hand back and gave him a semi-squinting look with a temperature of Arctic levels. "Do _not_ try that again."

He whistled between his front teeth, backing off slightly. "Well, I guess good manners are rarely appreciated these days. My excuses if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way, _madame_."

She gave him that cold look again, sighed, then slowly shook her head and walked away.

The group of mercs had long since fallen apart, some had departed to their bedrooms, others lingered in the living quarters. Sniper had noisily left the room, heading for his van that was parked outside, as always.

Everyone just went on with their lives, leaving the young woman awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. Spy expected Engineer to go over and befriend her already, but he was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't going to try and be nice to her again, she would end up lashing out to him if she noticed him trying to advance to her, he just knew that.

He didn't fancy her in particular, but Spy liked to flirt with almost any woman he met, and in this case she was the first woman (except for Miss Pauling) he'd met in a long while. He figured she would be a nice pastime, to test his flirtation skills, to see just how long it took for her to snap out of her distant, arrogant attitude and fall for him completely.

Little did he know he was up for a greater challenge than he anticipated.

 _ **A/N: Hi there again, everyone! Thank you for bearing with me this far!**_

 _ **Again a couple 'a French words in this chapter, translations here:**_

 _courtois:_ _ **polite, using proper manners**_

 _"Bonjour madame Stratège":_ _ **"Good day, lady Strategist"**_

 _madame:_ _ **milady**_

 _ **That's all for this chapter, I guess. ^^ If you enjoy the story this far, consider following it or faving it, and please do leave a review! :)**_


	3. Intercom

**A little warning: this chapter will contain some strong language.**

Chapter 3

Engineer was an exceptionally smart and socially capable man, everyone on the team would agree on that. However, even though he had known that the tenth class wouldn't add anything substantial to the team, even he could have never foreseen the utter gradation of opinions that arose in the team after the Strategist's arrival. About half of the mercenaries were incapable of coping with this change in their team. Now some of them were just plain confused as to what was to happen next, but others -especially Scout- really didn't like the woman, which was of course completely logical, since she wasn't exactly the nicest person to be around, and sometimes, she would lash out to anyone within ten feet of her for no reason at all. Spy just made sure to not be around her all too often, and if he did, he would be polite to her, not getting too close.

It was the morning before the first battle that would be fought with ten classes. Slowly, the mercenaries started entering the living quarters and sat down at the long table in the middle of the cheerless, industrially lighted room. Spy was always one of the first men to rise. The clock indicated it was half past seven and he was casually sitting there in one of the uncomfortable chairs with his suit jacket loosely hung on the back of the chair, sipping from his second cup of black coffee when Engineer clumsily entered the room, carrying his tool box under one arm and a ridiculous load of blueprints under the other. He dropped them on the table and put the box on the ground.

"I would assume a man of your intellect would have known those prints _par coeur_ by now," Spy dryly stated. Engineer looked up in that particular, confused-scientist way that was further enhanced by his ever-present goggles, then smirked and shook his head.

"Just wanna show the new gal how these things roll, she might find it useful."

Spy nodded slowly, taking his cigarette container from the table and taking one out to light. "She does not seem like someone to ask for help or even accept it when offered, especially when it concerns her profession."

Engineer shrugged loosely. "Just an idea. Y'know, maybe the idea of someone actually takin' time to explain something to her would make her open up to the team a lil'."

Spy wanted to say that he found that really naive of him, but he wisely shut up. Maybe he was wrong himself, maybe the Strategist just needed someone to befriend her and she'd open up and they would be one big happy team. Or maybe he was the one being naive there.

The other mercs had started to enter the room, grabbing food from the kitchen and sitting down at the long table. The coffee machine had to work at full capacity.

No Strategist anywhere to be seen, while the other mercs went about with their morning routines, getting up to the locker room after breakfast.

The clocks' hands had creeped alarmingly close to the indication of 8 o'clock in the morning, which would be the start of today's mission, when the short form of the Nordic female walked into the room with a slow yet somewhat menacing pace.

Spy shook his head when he saw Engineer rushing toward her when she lingered in front of a locker way back in the corner, that had evidently been appointed to her. He pointed out a couple of things on his blueprints, talking to her like he expected her to listen. She didn't shove him aside, but didn't look at him either, just nodded periodically while struggling to get the locker key in the rusty padlock. She then continued to get her weapons out of the locker.

Spy had to admit to himself that he was kind of curious as to what the Engineer had to tell that did not bore her right away, so after tucking his revolver in the holster underneath his jacket he moved a little closer to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"... expect ya to, y'know, also carry some kinda blueprints? As in, to map out your strategy and be able to show it to us?"

"I have got everything I need up here, sir _Ingenjör_." Strategist loosely tapped against her head. "Mapping out strategies is only something that one would do in a movie. Any kind of physical representation of a strategy can be lost, or worse, stolen. Secrecy is vital."

Engineer nodded. "Never thought about it like that. Anyway, you should start communicatin' your plan to the team, otherwise it won't help nothin'."

"Mission begins in sixty seconds."

She shrugged, still with a blank facial expression. "I will do so on the battlefield." Then she turned away from the Texan, inspecting her weapon, something that looked like a hunting rifle of which the barrel had sloppily been sawn off.

"Tough crowd, isn't she?", Spy asked as Engineer walked away from her with a concerned look on his face.

He smirked. "Pretty much... She's gotta force herself to be a lil' more extroverted in a couple 'a moments though, or she won't get nothin' done."

"Missions begins in ten seconds."

Spy wasn't optimistic.

"Five."

Not optimistic at all.

"Four."

The RED Medic yelled he had an übercharge ready.

"Three."

Demoman began to launch sticky bombs around the door opening, to prevent the first few BLU mercs from entering their base.

"Two."

Medic übered RED's Heavy.

"One."

Spy activated his cloak, rendering him invisible. Strategist had been looking in his direction, a puzzled look on her face when he faded away into the surroundings.

Immediately as the gates of their base opened, Soldier took a bullet to the head from the enemy Sniper, and he sunk to the ground with a deafening scream.

Spy rushed out of their base, only to find a huge load of BLU sticky bombs on the ground. He quickly stepped away from the mine field. The Heavy, whose übercharge just wore off, was less lucky, standing in the middle of it as the BLU Demoman decided to detonate them, tearing the Russian to little pieces.

The BLU Engineer had put a sentry at a platform, a location that was tough to approach without being seen: there were no obstacles to hide, and Spy wouldn't be able to cloak for the entire time while he was sneaking towards the Engineer and his construction. Also, the physicist had put his dispenser next to the platform, so if Spy were to disguise as a member of the opposite team, he couldn't approach the Engineer pretending to need some ammo, that would be too suspicious.

"Lady and gentlemen," he said in his earpiece. "I cannot possibly sap the BLU sentry right now."

" _Du, Spion._ " The Strategist's voice sounded in his ear. "Maybe wait until the other RED mercenaries get close. Then you... could disguise as a BLU Scout and hide behind the sentry as if scared. Then kill the BLU Engineer."

Spy shook his head to himself, retreating behind a wall as his cloak wore off. This was not going to work.

He overheard the Strategist giving insecure commands to the other mercs, none of which were responsive- except for Engineer, who gleefully obeyed her.

Other than that, she didn't get any response. That was, until Scout felt the need to show off in front of his team, darting around at the front of the battle, firing his scattergun all around him, killing only two BLU mercenaries in the process.

" _Spana_. Scout. Retreat from the crossfire at once."

Scout didn't even listen.

"I will repeat this only once. Scout. Retreat at once. We need you later on."

"Okay, now you listen up, you friggin' _idiot_. I ain't no merc in this team to be told off by some ugly as hell, fat-ass chick all th'time. It's not like anyone on th'team is gonna like you anytime soon, so just quit trying and get outta this battle, imbecile."

The silence afterwards seemed to last forever. Spy strongly disliked Scout's tirade of abusive words. He could understand a boy of that age didn't like to receive commands from a girl only slightly older than him, but even though Strategist could be unnecessarily mean at times, this was straight down disproportional.

A sharp click sounded. Strategist had turned off her earpiece.

Spy was about to scold Scout for his inappropriate behaviour, but someone else was first.

"Scout. Get back. Immediately." Engineer. Spy had never heard the Texan speak so cold, like he was trying to contain an immense anger fit. Scout stood still immediately, then got his head blown off by a missile launched by the enemy Soldier.

"Oi. Could we use the intercom for emergencies only? Try'na do my job here." Their own Sniper had spoken, and right after he finished talking he neatly shot the BLU Soldier through his chest.

Nobody used the intercom for the rest of that round. They won. During the next rounds, Strategist was nowhere to be seen.

Spy was the last one to enter the locker room after the last battle, only to find a nasty silence in the room. Scout was strutting around like he was proud of what he'd done. Nobody spoke up, until he himself proclaimed that he had liked the last battle better than the first one.

A few mercs shook their heads, Heavy gave him a sternly disappointed look, Engineer was just sitting on one of the benches in front of the lockers, looking down.

"I totally owned that chick, didn't I, right?", Scout said, ever so slightly nervous, probably hoping that the others would root for him.

Engineer stood up, taking off his goggles, ignoring the Bostonian kid. "I'm just gonna see whether I can find 'er. Everyone, do not tell th'Administrator that she wandered off during the last battle... That would count as desertion from the battle, gettin' her fired at once."

"Would you need any help with that, Engineer?", Spy asked, taking off his jacket, exposing the gun holster strapped to his shoulders. He then carefully unloaded his revolver and took off the leather holster.

If anything, now would be the time to get closer to Strategist, while she was probably curled up in her room, vulnerable as can be.

Engineer looked at him, slightly frowned, then shook his head. "Better not. I'm th'only one she seems to be able to stand at this point... She could completely shut 'erself in if she don't trust you, in which case she'll never be truly 'one of us'."

"Which she'll never be anyways," Scout yelled while the Texan walked away.

"You know best. Always try too hard to be part of things yourself," Heavy mumbled, just loud enough to hear for Spy, who gave a dark chuckle.

 _But now, you are standing here with empty hands again, monsieur Espion, and Engineer is going to get closer to the lady._

Even though he didn't deem it appropriate, his curiosity towards the Nordic woman had grown increasingly, and so he decided to eavesdrop on any kind of conversation that Engineer and Strategist would have.

He casually followed the physicist to the living quarters. Demoman was sitting as the table, tracing the text on his bottle of alcohol with his finger.

"Demo," Engineer asked, "have you seen the girl?"

The Scotsman took a huge swig from the bottle, then wiped his mouth and burped loudly. "As far as I know she headed for the gym to punch some kickbags. Not looking too happy anyways."

"Off to the gym then," Engineer said, turning around on his heels to exit the living quarters. Spy stood there waiting for a moment, receiving a deadpan look from Demoman.

"Well, I think I am going to head for my smoking room now, _pour fumer quelques cigarettes_ ," he said, taking the cigarette container out of his jacket pocket to make it seem as he was actually going to do that. As soon as Demoman looked at his beloved bottle again, Spy rushed out of the room, also heading for the gym.

Why did he want to get closer to Strategist so much? Why did he care this much?

 _It's almost like I have fallen for her before I even started to flirt with her myself_ , he thought sarcastically. At least, he liked to think he was being sarcastic.

In reality, that thought had contained more truth than he would ever care to admit.

 _ **A/N: Language lesson time again!**_

 _par coeur:_ _ **(French) Kinda hard to explain, literally 'by heart', so being able to recite a text or something similar without needing any kind of mnemonic.**_

 _Ingenjör:_ _ **(Swedish) Engineer**_

 _Du, Spion:_ _ **(Swedish) You, Spy (used informal, more like 'Yo')**_

 _Spana:_ _ **(Swedish) Scout**_

 _pour fumer quelques cigarettes:_ _ **(French) To smoke a couple of cigarettes**_

 ** _Hope you guys and gals have enjoyed this so far! If you like the story, please favourite/follow, and leave a review! Reviews really help me evaluate the story and increase my writing abilities, thus ameliorating your reading experience._**

 ** _Thank you for your support so far!_**


	4. L'amour est aveugle

Chapter 4

The RED base's gym was located on the right side of the building, and two thin doors with a horizontal iron bar to push them open gave access to it. It was always dark and hot in the large room, since the only windows located near the ceiling were always covered by black curtains, to prevent the Southern sun from shining in and heating up the room even more. The smooth walls were mostly uncovered, giving any sound whatsoever an eerie resonance, which made it nearly impossible to follow a conversation if one was not standing right next to the person talking.

Spy had hoped that he would still be able to follow the exchange of words between Engineer and Strategist through the doors, that had been left slightly ajar when the physicist had entered the gym, but all he could discern was the soothing cadence of Engineer's Texan accent and Strategist's apathetic, monotonous voice. No actual sentences, not even single words could he hear. He also wouldn't be able to push the doors open further so he could even have the slightest look at them, because the hinges were old and rusty and would definitely squeak when any movement was inflicted upon them.

He then decided to leave them be and trust on Engineer's description of the event later on. He couldn't imagine that the other would not tell everything just like it happened... Engineer was too honest to lie. At least, that was what Spy presumed.

So he retreated to his smoking room, facing the fireplace. It wasn't lit of course, temperatures outside were rising toward approximately 40 degrees Celsius, and he had managed to keep his smoking room as well as his bedroom cold so far, he was willing to give up the distinctive snapping sound of burning wood for that. Still, he had taken off his suit jacket, since the meticulously tailored piece of clothing restricted his movement a quite lot. He still lit a little, old fashioned oil lamp on the coffee table to illuminate the room a little.

He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and carefully lit the cigarette he had already locked between his lips. Once he inhaled the torrid smoke into his lungs, he leaned back into his comfortable chair and relaxed all of his muscles.

The last couple of days had been confusing, and that was one of the most euphemistic terms he could think of. He wasn't fond of changes, especially when those changes were made to a situation that had been even slightly beneficial in his opinion. Admittedly, the RED team's situation had not been beneficial at all, but Spy could live with it, and they could have made it if only BLU's use of third party weapons was to be supervised more strictly. The Administrator apparently disagreed with that, since she was the one who decided to introduce a new class. He almost wished she hadn't done that.

Of course, Strategist was a fun test subject to practice his courting skills, but she was distracting not only him, but the whole team. He could only hope BLU's Strategist possessed exactly the same characteristics as their very own Nordic grump, so they would at least have the same setbacks as them.

Spy was about to light his third cigarette when the doorknob on the large, wooden door that granted access to his room creaked, and the door slowly opened.

"Spy? You in here?" Engineer's backlit silhouette appeared in the door opening.

"Come in quickly, please," Spy said, slightly mumbling due to the cigarette resting on his lower lip. "I didn't manage to keep this room froid just for some idiot to leave the door open."

Engineer nodded, stepped into the room and quickly closed the door behind him.

" _Asseyez-vous, Ingénieur_. Have a seat." Spy loosely gestured to the armchair at the other side of the coffee table.

The Texan walked over nervously, obviously not comfortable with the posh atmosphere in the smoking room, then sat down on the armrest of the chair. Spy wanted to chase him off of it, the fauteuil was antique, and sitting on the armrest could ruin it, but he didn't want to do anything that could possibly make the other not tell the whole story.

"So why have you come to visit me?", Spy asked, smoke emerging from his mouth as he spoke.

Engineer fidgeted with his one glove. "Well, as ya might know, I've been talkin' to Strategist. Decided to tell you a bit about it since you seemed to be a lil' concerned."

"Proceed."

"Well, I found her in there, she was punchin' against a kick bag real hard, didn't stop when she noticed me come in. Didn't want to interrupt her either, the gal looked like she could've socked me in the face in one motion. After a while she stopped, askin' me what I came in for. Told her I was concerned, felt bad for her." He shrugged. "She didn't tell me off, just sat down and told me she carried an immense hate for Scout after today. Can't blame her... The boy's been a jerk. Anyway, we kept talkin' for a while-"

"About what?"

Engineer blinked. "Eh, about where she's from. But I'm not really supposed... to tell you."

He was right, Spy thought. None of the mercs would ever talk to others about their past, about who they were before joining RED, it was considered too dangerous and therefore strictly forbidden, since the enemy Spy could be hearing everything, which would lead to disaster.

He extinguished the stub of his cigarette in an ash tray. "But she told you, anyway."

Engineer cracked a slight grin, nodding. "Yeah, ain't that sweet, she seems to trust me."

Spy deliberately let the conversation fall silent, hoping Engineer would reveal more about her, even though it was against the rules stated in the contract every mercenary would sign at the start of their employment at Mann Co.

The Texan nodded to himself. "She's 28 years old, from Sweden, hence the accent. Chess playin' prodigy, studied Maths over there, wrote her doctor's degree thesis on experimental chess strategies based on mathematical concepts, you know the drill. From what I gather that's about her only talent though, together with languages, she's bein' pretty vague about the things she's not good at."

"Too bad I do not speak Swedish," Spy said. Engineer chuckled. An unplanned silence followed.

"I know this might sound weird...", Engineer said, looking really nervous now, a contrast with his otherwise pretty laid-back demeanour.

Spy got an ominous feeling. He knew exactly where this was going. And he didn't like it.

"But I think... I kind of... I kind of like her, y'know. As in, like-like." The physicist looked away and shrugged.

Spy had been expecting that statement, yet he felt like an iron fist pulled clenched his throat shut. He leaned his head back and uttered an agitated sigh.

Engineer apparently interpreted this as annoyance, since he nervously added: "Please don't tell th'Administrator... I know we're not supposed to have other relationships other than professional in here, but I just can't fight it."

Manipulation was a skill that Spy seemed to possess naturally. When he was younger, he had never been all that fond of it, but he learned to cherish it later, as he became involved in the world of espionage. He had used it in his advance, and with success, in a great number of situations, yet now was the time he valued that talent of his more than he had ever done in his whole life.

"Engineer," he said, "I hope you notice that this girl could possibly never like you back. And even if she would, look at how she behaves to other people. She might be intelligent, but she completely lacks social capability. She might not be able to deeply care for someone, at all."

He leaned back, content with the web of lies he had started to create.

But Engineer just shook his head, looking down. "You don't know her."

"You're in love with her, Engineer. _L'amour est aveugle_. You can't expect yourself to form a true image of someone you have just fallen for," Spy said. Oh, the irony. He would almost believe he didn't like her himself.

"You apparently don't know me either."

"Oh, yes I do," Spy muttered. "Do not underestimate me."

Engineer wanted to speak up, then shook his head and rose. "I'm not gonna continue this discussion right now, otherwise I'll say things I'll regret later on. See yah, Spy."

As he watched the Texan disappear through the door opening, Spy knew he was up for a challenge. Even more than a challenge. He knew the Gravel War wasn't going to be the only war that was going to be fought that summer.

Spy avoided Engineer for the rest of the day. He sat down at the dinner table as far from the man as he could, which also happened to be as far from Strategist as possible, but he was willing to make that sacrifice.

Even though he really wanted to, he shouldn't get on Engineer's nerves, since that man was the easiest way to connect to Strategist that he could possibly have.

He was the first to disappear to his bedroom after dinner, just wanting to have some alone time. At this moment, he needed to think of what steps he was going to take next. If only he had Strategist's strategic insight, that would've been easy, but alas, fate knew no mercy.

After a while of swimming around in the dark ocean that was his thoughts, he decided to take a shower, to wash away the sweat and dirt of battle. He collected soap, a towel and an expensive, deep red bathrobe that he had bought years ago on the _Champs-Elysées_ in Paris.

He missed that city so much.

If only current events had taken place over there, dans _la ville de l'amour_ , he would have undoubtedly been able to win Strategist over. But right now he had no roses and diamond rings to give her on a sultry summer night, only spare ammo and chances to a quick, clean retreat. He was out of his natural habitat, and he was struggling to survive. Quite literally.

He opened the door, checking the corridor. The last thing he wanted right now was to encounter other mercs. Normally he wouldn't mind their noisy presence, but right now the thought of it nearly made him flinch.

Luckily, nobody had come upstairs yet. Or so he thought.

He stepped outside, closing the door behind him. All nine- or ten as of a couple of days ago- mercenaries shared one bathroom, much like the communal showers you would find in a gym. There were stone partitions to still provide some kind of privacy, but Spy nevertheless didn't fancy it when others were in the bathroom at the same time he was.

He was about to enter the bathroom when he heard muffled talking from a room a few doors down the corridor. Engineer's room. And of course he was talking to Strategist, who was in his room. _In his room_. _Apparently she trusted a guy who had not seen a woman in months enough to enter his room with him_ , Spy thought with aversion and slight jealousy.

Curiosity got the best of him, so he carefully sneaked over to the door of the Texan's room, that had been left slightly ajar.

 _Remarkable how this situation seems to take place over and over again_ , he thought as he leaned in to hear the conversation better.

Of course he shouldn't eavesdrop on their conversation once again, but all is fair in love and war. And oh, there was a war going on. But, Spy painfully realized, there was also love going on. Would that make secretly listening in to their conversation more permissible?

He hoped so.

"... But ya gotta understand, Strat, that ain't gonna happen very often from now on. It's just that people have to get used to someone new in their team, that's all."

"I will assume you are right. And I think you are the only person in this whole building capable of predicting social situations."

"I- I'll just take that as a compliment?"

"You should, and it is true."

Spy rolled his eyes. They were behaving like infatuated middle school students. The only thing missing was them sending notes to each other with hearts drawn all over them during a mission.

He was about to leave for the showers again when the conversation- or rather, lack thereof- got interesting.

 _ **A/N: Wooh! This story has gained a lot of favs and follows lately, thanks so much for that!**_

 _ **Now, off to French Class:**_

 _Asseyez-vous, Ingénieur:_ _ **Have a seat, Engineer**_

 _L'amour est aveugle:_ _ **Love is blind**_

 _Champs-Elysées:_ _ **Famous street in Paris, harbours a lot of exclusive stores**_

 _la ville de l'amour:_ _ **The city of love, common description for Paris**_

 _ **That's about it for this one. If you enjoyed the story, please consider following and/or favouriting, and please do leave a review! It really helps me to write better in English, since it's not my mother language, no matter how much I use it. :)**_


	5. Colleagues

Chapter 5-

It had been ten seconds since Spy had heard any sound from Engineer's room. The thoughts whirled through his mind like leaves in a tornado, but two scenarios that were likely to be happening at this moment were clear to him.

Either the two mercenaries inside the room were experiencing one of the most awkward silences in the history of the universe or they were indulging in any kind of intimacy.

He surely hoped it was not the latter taking place.

"You may let go of me now, _Ingenjör_."

And that was a fine display of how quickly hope could be crushed.

"O-oh, sure, 'scuse me."

Spy couldn't witness the scene from where he was standing, but he knew the two had been embracing, and from what he gathered, that embrace had been one sided. He wouldn't have thought Engineer would ever act so impulsive when it came to social interactions, so the man had to be seriously head over heels in love with Strategist.

A sly grin spread across his face. Engineer might have well blown everything he had built up with her thus far by making physical contact out of the blue, so for that matter he didn't feel particularly threatened by his action.

He heard Strategist get up to exit the room, and he instinctively reached for his watch, which acted as a remote control to activate his invisibility cloak. He darted back when it was not there, which was logical, since he always discarded it after a battle. Slowly walking backward, careful not to have the floor creak underneath his feet as he stepped, he found his way into the bathroom.

He carefully laid his bathrobe out over the one long bench that was in front of the shower stalls, making sure to not have it touch the floor, or it would ruin the delicate satin fabric. He then proceeded to peel his ever-present balaclava off of his head. The close-fitting, tight knit fabric always left a static charge on his hair whenever he would take it off. He had grown the front of his hair out slightly longer than the back and had the rest of his hair layered in between the two lengths, so it would look better when he slicked it back.

Not like anyone would ever see his hair, or his face for that matter, because of that stupid hat. If only his identity wouldn't be compromised with it he would vow to never wear the damn thing at all.

And then the lack of clothe hangers in the bathroom. He didn't even want to get started on that. His bath robe possibly getting stained was one thing, but the last thing he wanted was any kind of stain on his suit. It sounded rather pathetic, but unlike most of the other mercenaries, Spy valued an immaculate appearance in battle. It attributed to the fear his opponents felt for him, they would dread the merciless killer in the starched suit.

After he had neatly folded and stacked his clothes on the cleanest spot on the whole bench he could find, he stepped in the shower and turned it on. The water was colder than ice, it seemed, so he quickly stepped aside and cursed.

 _"Putain! Quel connard a utilisé tout l'eau chaude?"_

His sudden uttering of expletives nearly startled himself. He rarely cursed, and if he did, it was in a situation in which it was a merely human thing for him to do. And now he had used more swear words because of cold water in three seconds than he had used in battle in the last six months.

He did care about Engineer embracing Strategist, no matter what he tried to convince himself of. It was more than just annoyance over the Texan's adolescent behaviour. Deep inside he felt afraid. Afraid of what could be in the future, but above all, afraid of what already was at this moment.

He was afraid to lose Strategist, even though there was nothing going on between them as of now. But there was definitely something going on between her and Engineer. No matter what distant and reserved attitude Strategist maintained, Spy knew that she held the physicist dear to her heart.

He didn't want to think about it anymore. So he stepped under the shower again, letting the frigid water numb his body.

For the rest of the evening, he did not leave his room, reading some French literature that he had stashed away on a book shelf for moments like these and enjoying a nice glass of wine. He was tired. Within half an hour he was fast asleep, slouched back in his chair, the book resting against his chest and his glass of wine tipped over on the ground.

* * *

He woke up the next morning with a headache and with the muscles in his shoulders and neck all cramped up. He growled, rolling his shoulders. Strategist was really becoming a distraction for him. He didn't want to end up malfunctioning in battle because of the Swedish woman.

He had no other choice than to just keep going, ignoring the dull pain in his chest whenever he thought of the sheer possibility that Strategist would end up liking Engineer, or worse. He almost felt like actively trying to drive them apart, to make them hate each other, but the tiniest sliver of common sense he had left in his love-ridden mind informed him of the fact that an action like that was bound to backfire really, really hard.

It was as if he experienced his normal morning routine looking through a grey veil, nothing really got to him but his own thoughts and irrational fears. He didn't see Strategist at the breakfast table, again. It seemed she avoided company of all the other mercenaries as much as possible. Well, all of the other mercenaries but Engineer, given that she had entered his room. Spy still couldn't comprehend why she would ever do that. Admittedly, he could comprehend it, but for a reason he didn't want to think of. Engineer sitting at the end of the table with a stupid beatifical grin didn't help him much either.

At quarter to eight, Strategist entered the room, unfathomable expression as always, clenching a large sheet of paper rolled up under her arm.

"Good morning, _kolleger_."

The men seated around the table fell silent and looked up. Spy figured some of them had never hear her speak more than one word at the time, and he had to repress the urge to snicker.

"Yesterday was an utter and complete joke." She smashed the paper on the table with her last words, rolling it out, leaning on the table with her hands on the sides of the sheet to prevent it from curling back up again, not making eye contact with anyone.

"I have been sent here by the Administrator to help all of you, and you are not doing anyone or anything a favour by disregarding her, and me, for that matter. Upon request-" She cast a glance in Engineer's general direction "- I have written and drawn the strategy out on this map. Now you may ridicule me again and ignore all of this, but I have been ordered to report all events of my first week of working here." An arrogant, cold grin slid across her lips as she lifted her head and looked at Scout, giving him a sarcastic wink. "You're getting a paragraph all for yourself, kid. Be proud."

A short silence ensued. Spy looked around. Many seemed to be as confused as he was, Scout's face had turned white as chalk. Spy figured the Bostonian kid had only picked on Strategist since she seemed an easy target, he must have mistaken her calculating silence for insecurity. Himself, he was just most impressed by her short allocution. She was more eloquent in English than he would have guessed, also the sudden confidence in her speech seemed out of character. He suspected that Engineer literally wrote that speech for her, just to give her some impact on the team. He probably instructed her as far as the timing and non verbal part of her speech were concerned, too.

Strategist needed three minutes to explain her plan to the team. It was short, it was simple. Nothing about it seemed impossible, the whole thing was actually more plausible than Spy would have expected. The Swedish woman was the first one to walk off into the locker room, the other mercenaries followed hesitantly.

Spy saw Engineer talking to her enthusiastically as she was awkwardly tucking her hair underneath the ugly grey and red knitted hat she wore during battle, her face back to a blank expression again. He didn't understand why she wouldn't just tie her hair up. Any women he had known during his life would have done that in her position. No, they actually wouldn't. Any women he had known during his life would never start working for a company that required them to kill people over and over again, every day, multiple times a day. Maybe it was just one of the many facets of her insanity. Everyone working for RED or BLU was insane in some way, some more than others. Spy, no matter how rational he thought he was, knew that even he would be considered insane in society, since he had never had a hard time killing anyone, not even in his early years working for secret government organisations.

The Administrators voice started counting down from the boxes in the locker room, everybody positioned themselves in front of the gates, ready to storm off and start a massacre.

"Remember what I told you, everyone," Spy heard Strategist say, simultaneously somewhere behind him and with the slightest delay in his earpiece. "Medic, stay behind with Heavy and wait until the enemy Heavy has been killed, only then activate your überload and head for the crossfire."

Medic mumbled something of a vague approval in German that even Spy, the language fanatic, could not understand.

"Three. Two. One."

The gates were flung open mechanically. Pyro immediately received a bullet to the head and fell down with a bone-chilling scream.

"We got that sniper on the roof on the left again," Engineer said through the paging system, and then with a hint of panic in his voice: "Can someone please cover me?"

"Oh, that's horrible, and we don't even have a skilled sniper ourself who could've taken care of that immediately. Right, Sniper?" Strategist's voice, dripping with cold sarcasm.

Spy grew increasingly confused by her sudden change in character. She could have received some coaching on enforcing authority from Engineer, but she was doing the majority of this herself. Maybe this was her, maybe this was the opened up version of Strategist.

He was not sure he liked this version of her. She was still distant, only more talkative, but for some reason the way in which she communicated made her seem even more distant. He actually hoped she was just displaying an extraordinary piece of improvisation while playing the role of a slightly more socially capable Strategist.

"There we go, first row of BLU mercs is down. Medic, Heavy, go!"

The two men stormed off, enveloped by a bright red light, a hail of bullets ricocheting off of them. They broke straight through the line of BLU mercenaries in the process, heading straight for the point located in the BLU base.

"We have captured the control point!"

They actually made it in one try. That happened sometimes because of sheer luck, but Spy wanted to believe that Strategist had made a perfect plan, and that they had made it because the team stuck to it for once.

The BLUs were tough that day, though. RED spent minutes trying to capture the next control point because the enemy Engineer had built a sentry in a really tough to reach spot. Any grenades would ricochet off of the walls around it, dealing hardly any damage. Nobody would be able to reach it directly without getting in the sentry's reach. RED's Medic didn't have an überload ready.

So Spy was dispatched to sap the sentry, and he reluctantly obliged. He wouldn't be able to disguise as a member of the opposite team for the same reason as last time: there would be no reason for anyone of the BLU team to hide near the sentry, and the BLU Engineer knew this, which would have him killed instantly.

There was no other option than sapping the sentry while cloaked, and then backstabbing the BLU Engineer, who would undoubtedly spot him otherwise, before his cloak wore off. But that would expose him to the sentry directly, killing him anyway.

He lit a cigarette on his way to the sentry's location. He was about to be killed voluntarily anyway, so he allowed himself to smoke whilst in battle. Even though he knew he would be back on the field in no time at all, respawn didn't take away the pain he was about to feel when the sentry would discover him and fire away. That pain was fierce, and if the sentry exploded too soon from the effects of the electrosapper, he wouldn't die instantly, rather bleed to death slowly, hoping for the other BLUs to find him and end his misery quickly.

Yes, a person had to be insane to work at either RED or BLU, indeed.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Oi there! Thanks for bearing with me this far!**_

 _ **Now, off to teaching you some random words in different languages that you will probably never use anyway:**_

 _Ingenjör (Swedish): **Engineer**_

 _Putain! Quel connard a utilisé tout l'eau chaude? (French): **Damn it! Which bastard used all of the hot water? (This translation has been toned down a bit, lol, I can't use the real translation in a T-rated fic)**_

 _Kolleger (Swedish): **Colleagues/gentlemen**_

 _ **That's all for this one. One little note: I always kind of picture Spy without his balaclava on looking strikingly like Sean Connery as James Bond , only with a sharper nose. If the description on Spy's hair seemed a bit vague, just google that guy, and you should be fine xD**_

 _ **If you enjoy the story, please follow and/or favourite it! Reviews are also greatly appreciated. Let me know what you think about this chapter! ^^**_


	6. Staredown

Chapter 6

Spy was certain he could conclude Strategist was not planning to befriend anyone of the nine RED mercenaries except for Engineer, but it was completely clear she held a grudge against the Frenchman in particular.

She had dispatched him to carry out her strategy multiple times, and every time it had sent him through respawn. Sure, the team had made great progress during all of the battles today, but she could have sent anyone for the tasks she had appointed him.

It was one thing to have the team's Strategist against him, but the thing he was most uncomfortable with was that the chances of her finally accepting his advances grew slimmer and slimmer each day. He wondered how long it would take for them to disappear altogether. At this rate, incorporating all the current events, it would take Strategist less than a week to decide whether she liked Engineer slowly scuffling into her comfort zone. By the looks of it now, she didn't seem to mind it.

It was time for him to pull out the dirtiest manipulation tricks he had. There was time to shy back now.

 _But why do you want this so bad?_ Spy wanted to shake his head and just tell himself he had fallen in love with her for real, but he knew that was not true. The real, agonizing truth swirled in his chest cavity like a vortex of black, ice cold ink.

All his life, women had been utterly swooning over him and his good looks, and he could get any woman he wanted with a snap of his fingers. Over the years, his charm sure hadn't subsided, but with working at RED he barely saw any females around, and he was not sure... whether he'd still got that charm. He was middle aged now, maybe just a little older than what could be qualified as that category, and he was afraid. He was afraid that as time ticked by, he would lose his appeal to women, he would lose-

His pondering was suddenly interrupted as he bumped into a short form, nearly knocking him over. The other had a worse sense of balance than him apparently, and fell face forward into the dirt.

He was looking down on a small though stocky woman. She wore a grey, loose-fitting button-up, black trousers and a grey and blue hat with the microphone of a larger earpiece poking out from underneath it. She cast the Frenchman a stoic look, not afraid of the fate she was about to meet, even giving him a slight upward nod, as if to say 'go ahead, kill me now'.

Spy blinked a few times before even thinking of drawing his revolver, a thought which he quickly dismissed. He was confused, not to say the least.

The woman he had knocked over was the BLU team's Strategist. She was a little taller, with more curves, but she still bore a baffling resemblance to their own Strategist, with her wide set eyes and conceited attitude.

He had to kill her. She was too valuable to the BLU team to have her walk away like nothing happened. He took his revolver, aiming for her forehead.

 _Those eyes._

His hand started shaking. He just couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. It was as if their own Strategist was sitting there in front of him, waiting with courageous patience to be sent through respawn.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't-

The BLU Strategist quickly grabbed her short rifle, clumsily aimed for him, gave a wry smile and fired. The buckshot load's force was amplified by the short distance and the shortened barrel of the rifle. It hit him straight in the face, snapping his neck and knocking him five feet back. An iron taste filled his mouth -or rather, the bloody, riddled hole that was left of it- and darkness enveloped him.

As he opened his eyes, kneeling on the tiled floor of the respawn room, he gave a dark chuckle and shook his head.

 _Bien entendu, both Strategists are merciless killers, just like all of us_ , Spy thought. He reluctantly got up and headed for the battle again. He was glad Strategist only gave him orders in which he had to indirectly sabotage the other team, through electrosapping sentries and the like, the last thing he wanted was to encounter the BLU Strategist again, the whole situation had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He had always wondered how Mann Co. always managed to hire two employees for one class that were exact doubles, one of them dispatched to RED and one of them dispatched to BLU. It was almost as if the multimillion dollar company made a priority of finding exact _doppelgängers_ to hire rather than hand-picking them solely for their skill. The first time he had encountered his double, the BLU Spy, he had been shocked, to say the least.

At first, the man standing right in front of him had seemed like one of those faces in a crowd that seem slightly familiar to you, but you're not sure where you possibly could have encountered this person. Then the enemy Spy had cracked that sly grin, and it had struck him. It was him. It couldn't be anyone else standing in front of him than himself.

He had been so confused he hadn't thought about the possibility of the other person having already seen him and thus not being as awestruck as him, so his double had killed him with two revolver shots to the chest and a sarcastic salutation.

Spy shook his head to get rid of the memory. They needed to win this final round of the day.

* * *

It seemed like the best feeling in the world when the whole team entered the base, a cheerful atmosphere all around them. They had won all nine rounds today. Spy figured they had accomplished a great deal of that completely on their own, but Strategist's efforts, and more importantly, the team's obedience to her, had been vital for their numerous victories today, one could simply not deny that.

Scout did, however.

"Awh man, it's like, we totally uncapped a bottle of our talent, am I right?", he said, raising his arms theatrically, looking around for support.

"We owe victory to girl," Heavy said, nodding to Strategist with his head. "She uncapped bottle. We did not." He was sitting on a bench in the locker room, casually chewing on a sandwich, yet still keeping his glance sternly focused at Scout.

Strategist, who was struggling with detaching the gun holster from her belt, sent the both of them a puzzled look, then shrugged.

"Listen up, big one," Scout suddenly said, talking in a much higher pitch with sheer anger, "before those BLU bozos started accepting weapons from this third party company things, we could _easily_ beat them time after time. We just found our confidence back, that's all. Nothin' like the weird chick's helped us that much anyway. Only thing she's good at's runnin' away from battle, _like the big fat coward she is_."

He turned to the Swedish woman, emphasizing the last few words with exaggeration.

She just gave him the same aggressive upward nod that Spy had witnessed with the BLU Strategist, only this time it seemed as if the air around her quivered with pugnacious energy, as if she was milliseconds away from getting up and giving Scout some intimidating shoulder bumps before punching him straight across the face.

It didn't happen, but the tense silence didn't leave the room. All mercs were more or less expecting something to happen, Spy even noticed he was holding his breath. He quietly exhaled, still keeping his eyes focused on the imminent conflict.

Yet Strategist didn't seem like she was about to descend to Scout's level, or rather, ascend, since she was still sitting on the bench across the room.

"I find it remarkable that you were able to utter that sentence, considering the fact that you possess less brain cells than the majority of prokaryotes do."

Nobody except Engineer and Medic chuckled. Spy figured she had made a scientific reference of some sort. She had probably wanted to point out how brainless she thought Scout was, showcasing her own intelligence and eloquence while she was at it.

Scout scoffed, shook his head, obviously trying to find a comeback. "You are a friggin' idiot. I will never do what you say, even if we'll end up losin' this war 'cause of that. And I don't care that you'll run off to tell th'Administrator, I'm just so friggin' _done_ with you and your arrogant attitude, I have to contain myself all tha time to not wipe that smug grin off of your ugly face."

Strategist rose from the bench and stepped toward the Bostonian kid. She was quite a lot shorter than he was, but her muscular frame made her look like she could win any sort of physical conflict with him without batting an eye.

"Oh, we gonna do a staredown now, huh?", Scout said, pushing her away from him.

Spy was about to step forward and chase Scout away from her, but Strategist just pushed her opponent back, tilting her head sideways a bit, as if to say 'is that all you've got?' She was perfectly capable of handling the situation herself.

"Scout, get away from her," Engineer said, the forcibly calm tone of his voice dripping with poorly hidden irrational anger. It frightened Spy. He knew how furious the Texan could be in battle, and it would be hard to constrain him, should he decide to attack Scout. Even though he was the shortest of all ten mercenaries, even shorter than Strategist, he was definitely one of the strongest, and the robotic prosthesis that replaced his right hand could easily crush someone's windpipe or skull.

Scout knew this too, it seemed. He just raised his hands, nodding slowly. "Right-o. I'm backin' away, see?" He quickly scurried out of the room, leaving Strategist standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed.

"What are you all looking at?", she snapped to the room filled with thrill seeking mercenaries. Most of them looked away and acted as if they had been busy locking away their weapons and equipment all the time, then quickly left the room.

Only Spy and Engineer were left. Spy wasn't sure if he had to exit the room like the others had done, or that he should stay and try to talk to Strategist. That didn't seem like the best idea, since she pushed away Engineer, who tried to wrap an arm around her.

He left the locker room and stopped just around the door to eavesdrop on their conversation once again, this time still having his cloaking watch strapped around his wrist, to be able to vanish if the two were to head out of the room unexpectedly.

"It's not like I needed your help or anything," he heard Strategist scoff. "If that guy were to hit me, I would have hit him back, and that would be the last time he would ever dare to think of touching me."

"I... I just didn't want you to get hit in the first place, is that bad?"

Spy rolled his eyes. He couldn't decide whether Engineer was trying to be romantic or just pain clueless with women. For a guy that spent most of his teenage years and 20's locked away in his room, designing constructions and machines and consequently building them, the latter was more applicable.

Strategist seemed to be intrigued by that anyway, since she didn't reply whatsoever. Spy could even feel the awkwardness in the silence that ensued.

"Well, let's get this over with then." Engineer cleared his throat nervously. "I... there ain't a lot of women around here, I'll give you that. But even if there were, I'd feel the same about you, I reckon. I-I like you. A lot."

Silence.

Spy felt as if someone dropped a 500 pound boulder on his chest. Of course, he had seen this coming. But now that Engineer had actually told Strategist about his feelings for her, it would definitely cause her to think about him a lot, which could make her realize that she liked the short Texan, if she didn't already.

Quick footsteps came his way. He quickly cloaked, half a second before Strategist came out the door, a reserved, cold look on her face.

 _She doesn't like him back?_

He didn't know what to think of that. A small rush of happiness cautiously started lifting the heavy weight of the boulder from his chest, but he didn't want to give in to it just yet.

The best case scenario here was that she didn't like Engineer back, but there were plenty of other scenarios possible, such as her not wanting to pursue any kind of relationship with any of the mercenaries because she wanted to keep her professionalism intact and not be distracted by a love interest while in battle, or she could... not be into guys at all. Spy swallowed thickly. That thought had never crossed his mind. It made sense completely, how else would she be able to put up with nine frustrated men day after day, and why else would she act so masculine, so-

His nervous pondering was interrupted by the sound of metal to concrete, followed by a frustrated grunt. "Oh my goodness... I screwed this up big time, I shoulda never told her..."

At least Engineer thought he blew his chances with her, that was a good thing, Spy mused. Yet he felt a sharp pang of guilt in his chest when he heard the Texan sobbing softly in the adjacent room. And then he realized that this maybe wasn't the right thing to do. Engineer was the most likeable person in the team, and aside from his occasional insanity, he was a really good guy, and even though Spy felt horrible admitting it, he didn't deserve being treated like this by Strategist. The man had been through a lot, and he deserved to be loved back by someone he loved dearly.

It was just too bad that the one person Engineer loved dearly was the same person that Spy loved dearly.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Oi, finally! This took longer than expected. I've been having a crazy amount of classes for university lately, and I sadly couldn't have writing as a priority. That being said, I will try to continue to update frequently.**_

 _ **Only one French expression in this one:**_

 _Bien entendu: **of course**_

 _ **Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you did, please leave a review and consider following/faving this story. Thanks for bearing with me so far, and see ya next time!**_

 _ **-Ziggard**_


	7. Checkmate

Chapter 7-

Spy's initial estimation of the time needed for Strategist to form an opinion about Engineer's advances had been incorrect.

Fourteen days had passed since Engineer had expressed his feelings for the Swedish woman and it didn't seem like the two had exchanged a single word in that period. They had just proceeded fullfilling their tasks, not better than usual, not worse than usual, just the same. They had triumphed over BLU quite a few times, but they had been defeated some, too.

Spy was just tired of the way things had gone the past two weeks. He had attempted to strike up a conversation with Strategist numerous times, but each time their interlocution had fallen silent after four or five sentences. At least, she didn't act like she utterly hated him anymore, it was like her attitude toward him had shifted toward the general disliking she held toward the entire team, except... No, maybe not except for Engineer this time, since she straight down avoided the Texan. Normally Spy would have been more than satisfied with that, but as long as he didn't get the attention from her he craved so badly, it didn't change anything.

It was on a friday night that things started to change, for the worse.

The RED team had won the last round, with a lot of struggling. Everyone had been worn out by the long week and once again they were all sitting in the communal living room, some of them were chatting for a bit to brighten up their moods a little. It was obviously working, Spy was startled while he was lighting a cigarette by Heavy, who suddenly started roaring with laughter about something Medic had told him.

Strategist was sitting at the table, furiously writing on one of her strategy maps. Spy sighed. She never seemed to take a break from improving her battle strategy or working out in the RED base's gym. Her physique never changed, however, she seemed to eternally maintain the athletic-yet-slightly-plump body she had when she was first introduced to the mercenaries.

She seemed so unapproachable when focusing on a task that Spy never dared to try to initiate a conversation with her, in fear of being rejected or worse. But he didn't have to do it this time. She looked up, feeling his gaze resting upon her apparently. Her emotionless light eyes scanning him head to toe made him feel rather uncomfortable.

"Would you mind joining me to play a game of chess, herrnen Spion?"

Spy pretended to need a moment to think about that, tilting his head a bit. "Well, if you insist, madame Stratège, I would gladly oblige."

"Good." She roughly pushed her stack of papers aside, and Spy couldn't help but notice the clumsy motor abilities of her hands again, it was as if she wasn't fully capable of controlling the motions her wrists and fingers made. He wanted to think she was nervous in his presence, but he knew that wasn't true. Her hands didn't shake, she just moved them with uncoordinated little jolts instead of moving smoothly.

He sat down on the chair at the opposite end of the table, waiting for her to take a large, dark wooden box decorated with meticulous wood carving on it from one of the shelves in the room.

"Does that belong to you?", Spy asked, gesturing to the box as she put it down on the table. She just looked at him.

"Do I seem like someone to leave their personal belongings in a room together with these individuals?" She nodded to the bunch of excentric men.

Spy had to admit she didn't. Strategist had already started to carefully set out the pieces on the black and white checkered board.

"Now are you any good?", she asked without looking up.

"I am more than proficient when it comes to playing chess, yes," Spy said, then he remembered his opponent was a mathematician, and he almost wished he hadn't said that last sentence.

 _Oh mon dieu, what have I gotten myself into._

She just shook her head as she positioned the last piece, a white rook, in front of her.

"White initiates.", she said, taking a pawn and placing it two steps forward.

Spy hesitated, his hand hovering over the black pieces. He then moved the pawn he had directly across from her pawn two steps forward. She gave him an unfathomable look, then took her knight and placed it diagonally behind her pawn.

The game hadn't even started a couple of minutes before Spy saw his chance. He moved one of his black rooks over to the white king, knocking it over. "Checkmate."

Strategist looked up, not even slightly bothered by this loss. "You are not supposed to capture the king, like you would do with other pieces. Chess ends in a checkmate."

Spy nodded, not able to hide the wide smirk that formed on his face.

 _Just beat a mathematician in a game of chess, I'd like to see Engineer beat that!_

They competed three more times that evening, Spy was able to celebrate his victory twice more. Strategist won during the last game, but just by the skin of her teeth, it seemed.

She gave him one of her unfathomable, somewhat scoffing looks. "Well herrnen Spion, it seems like I misjudged you."

"There is so much more to me than what meets the eye," he said, slightly raising his eyebrows as he nodded to her. "So much more."

She just shook her head as she put the heavy wooden box back on the shelf across the room, then left without even casting a look in his general direction.

Spy slowly whistled between his teeth. She sure wasn't being easy on him. Now that he came to think of it, was she actually being easier on Engineer than she was on him? Two weeks ago he certainly would have answered that question with a 'yes', however, this time he wasn't sure. He needed a second opinion on it.

And that was the reason he knocked on the door of Engineer's working space several minutes later. The Texan didn't cal him to come in, instead he opened the door himself.

Spy was almost startled by how exhausted he looked. The man practically never removed his goggles, but now he had done so, Spy could see the intense, numb fatigues in his eyes.

"Whaddaya want?", he sharply asked, his accent thickened, either with anger or with intoxication. "Haven't you done 'nough damage already? Try'na drive Strat'gist an' me 'part?"

Deep inside, Spy wanted to speak some encouraging words to the short man, but the desire to win Strategist over burned more fiercely.

"Nothing, we just played a couple of games of chess," he said. Engineer didn't seem to be impressed. "And?"

"I managed to win three times," Spy said, his pride showing, no matter how much he tried to conceal it.

Engineer looked at him with a tilted head, slightly squinted, then burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"What's so funny?" Spy tried to ask without raising his voice too much, but the Texan didn't hear him through his laughter, so he asked his question again, louder this time.

"W-what di' sh'say after?", Engineer asked, theatrically wiping a tear from his cheek while still heaving with laughter.

Spy shrugged. "She only said... she misjudged me."

Engineer burst out in laughter again. "Yeah... I see- sh' probably didn't ya'd be so stupid to f-fall for it. Spy, she-she's a mathematician. Ya wouldn't win from her... Noddin a million years." He hiccuped, let out one more soft chuckle, then sighed.

Next thing he knew, Spy was being grabbed by his collar. He heard the mechanical hand of the shorter man buzz and he was pulled down to come eye to eye with him.

Engineer's eyes sparkled with sudden fury. Yes, he was definitely drunk. "Ya don't understand, do ya. Lina is mine. D-don'tcha dare come this c-close to her 'gain, or I'll rip your throat out... for real."

"You are wrinkling my collar, " Spy answered haughtily, wrinkling his nose to the stench of alcohol on the other's breath. Engineer released him with a scoff. The Frenchman backed off quickly.

* * *

 **A/N I have risen from oblivion. Expect continuation of this fanfic...**


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